Notes: Thanks to my tireless beta yankeesailor for beta'ing and for helping to reassure this very uncertain author that her smutt-scenes do not in fact suck. Also, this is dedicated for naggingfishwife for her amazing Hound/Mirage artwork and for asking for more for this pairing. They're my crusade pairing and I luff them so!
Additional Notes: This will contain adult situations of the adult themes of the plug'n'play variety, you have been warned. Also, some healthy doses of WAFF and saccharine.
Disclaimer: Not mine, nor am I making any money off of it. The only thing I own are the twisted ideas floating around in my head.

Continuity: Takes place after Works in Mysterious Ways but before Mine

Patience: A minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue.

--Ambrose Bierce

They had been taking things slow for a while now. Each had been a little shy and uncertain how exactly to go about approaching the subject of interfacing. Whenever they got to a certain level of intimacy, Mirage always pulled back. Something was bothering the spy though he could not articulate it properly to the scout.

It could be frustrating at times but Hound was patient and didn't push him. He didn't like being pushed away but Hound had come into this relationship realizing Mirage had some pretty significant issues. That didn't bother him, what upset him was the haunted, almost panicked look in Mirage's optics when he pulled away. And it kind of… hurt… that Mirage didn't trust him enough to at least give him an honest reason for his seemingly irrational fear. Hound's mind all too eagerly supplied possible explanations and each were unpleasant and horrifying.

They were in Mirage's quarters as usual with a human movie playing in the background--though neither was giving it much attention. The spy's rank gave him the privilege of not having a roommate and that gave the two of them the privacy they wouldn't have gotten in Hound's quarters. Trailbreaker was pretty understanding but Hound doubted he wanted to come in and find his friend interfacing with Mirage on the recharge berth. Not that there was much interfacing going on, of course. Like always, just as Hound started to stroke the panel where Mirage's datacable was stored, the spy panicked and jerked away.

"I'm sorry…"

"No, no, it's alright," Hound tried to sooth him and stroked a hand down Mirage's arm. "Too fast?"

The spy felt absolutely awful. Hound had been nothing but patient with him, but he knew this constant up-and-down was getting old. Frag, he himself was getting tired of this seemingly endless cycle of irrational fear and keen sense of wanting. Primus knew Mirage wanted to drop his guard and let Hound into that intimate part of himself, but every time they tried, unpleasant memories and harsher words resurfaced until any hint of ardor was extinguished.

"I'm sorry, Hound."

"What's the matter, Mirage? Why can't you tell me?"

He couldn't force himself to meet the green mech's optics. "I'm fine, I just don't want to rush things and end up slagging it up."

Hound knew he was lying but also knew it was pointless to press him. Mirage knew more about keeping secrets than Hound could ever hope to know so he had to settle for just backing off and giving Mirage time to come around on his own. "It's fine, really. Take all the time you need," the scout smiled that sweet little smile of his and kissed Mirage softly. "So long as I'm still allowed to do this, I'm happy."

The Ligier made a soft noise and leaned up to kiss Hound sweetly before the two mechs settled back into a companionable silence as they turned back to the movie. Hound would occasionally reach out to stroke Mirage's armor. He was a tactile mech in general and got a private thrill in being allowed to touch the standoffish spy.

Once the movie was over, Hound turned to Mirage and was surprised to see the spy had actually fallen asleep with his head nestled against the crook of Hound's shoulder while sitting up. The jeep smiled softly and just studied that passive face now that it was relaxed and unguarded. It always surprised him to realize how vulnerable Mirage looked whenever his customary aloof expression melted away in recharge. The spy put off such an air of solitary confidence that it was hard to imagine him being emotionally vulnerable.

But at times like these, Hound saw something deeper in Mirage that endeared the Ligier to him all the more. He shifted enough to gently brush his fingers across the graceful line of Mirage's cheek before nestling the blue mech closer. They'd no doubt online with stiff tension lines and aches in their joints from recharging in such a weird position, but Hound found he didn't mind the prospect so much. Not if he got to spend the night with Mirage in his arms.

As he suspected, Hound woke up stiff and aching. He and Mirage exchange sweetly shy smiles as each prepared to head for their separate patrols. It had been surprisingly homey and filled each with a warm glow of contentment to watch the other prepare to go on duty. Hound even helped Mirage shoulder his electro-disrupter on. His hands lingered over the catches and stroked the struts leading up to Mirage's neck.

The spy leaned into the touch with a contented noise and his optics slowly dimmed in pleasure. When Hound started to ghost soft little kisses across the electro-disrupter and Mirage's shoulders, he could almost let himself pretend that they could stay like this forever. All the fear and uncertainty that haunted him in the night drained away and he could just bask in Hound's warm, soothing, attention.

"Mnn… keep that up and we're both going to be late, " Mirage murmured with reluctance as his hands rose to cover Hound's in a gentle grip.

"Might be worth it," Hound murmured into his audio sensor, the unseen smile easily conveyed in his tone. He pressed up against Mirage and wound his arms around the slim Ligier's shoulders from behind in an intimate hug.

"I'm sure it would be, but we don't want to get a reputation. Besides, Jazz is clever enough to guess what detained me." Amusement colored the noble-mech's voice, though he did shift to lean his cheek against Hound's briefly.

Just then, Hound's comm chimed and he reluctantly released Mirage. "Hound here."

"Hey, just checking to see if you were online," Trailbreaker's deep voice came over the line. His concern touched Hound and he smiled softly with affection for his best friend.

"We're awake, thanks for the reminder, 'Breaker."

"Good, see you in a 'click." Trailbreaker cut the connection and Hound turned to Mirage with a chagrined look.

"Guess that's my cue to skeedattle, huh?"

"So it would seem. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Right, see you then." He pulled Mirage close for one last heated kiss that dragged on for a pleasant moment. "Something to think about," the green mech murmured with a mischievous grin before he turned and left Mirage's quarters.

Trailbreaker was waiting for him outside and waved at the Jeep when he came into view. "Looks like it's going to be a gorgeous day today," the defensive strategist pointed out conversationally.

"Yeah, sure does. So long as we don't run into any 'cons it'll be a great patrol." Hound clapped his friend on the shoulder before sinking into his alt mode. Trailbreaker followed suit and the two took off down the road to reach their patrol boundary.

Once they'd gotten far enough into the rugged desert and Trailbreaker was sure no one was around he commed Hound on their private channel. "So, you didn't come home last night. I take it that means you and Mirage have worked out your… err… differences?" he asked curiously. Trailbreaker was proud that he managed to keep his communication modulated and nonchalant.

The defensive strategist had been in love with his best friend for years, though he'd never quite had the courage to tell Hound. He'd kept hoping the Jeep would open his optics one day and recognize Trailbreaker's love for him, but the scout had remained oblivious. And then Mirage had stepped into the picture and taken away any chance Trailbreaker had at gaining Hound's affection.

He tried to not hold it against the spy. If nothing else, Mirage seemed to make Hound happy, and that was enough for the large black mech. Besides, when compared to the graceful noblemech, Trailbreaker was seriously lacking. No one in their right mind would choose the lumbering defensive strategist over a mech like Mirage.

Hound was quiet for a long moment before he sighed. It was an idiosyncrasy he'd picked up from the humans somewhere along the way. "No, not really. I don't know what to do, 'Breaker." The Jeep seemed to sink down on his struts in dejection.

"Has he told you why he keeps pulling away?" It pained him to offer relationship advice to Hound, but his friend's happiness came over his own petty feelings so Trailbreaker tried to ignore the stab of pain he felt in his spark and did what he could to support his friend. If he couldn't be with him as a lover, the least he could do was stand by him as a friend should.

"No, he keeps trying to tell me he's fine. But he's not! You haven't seen the fear in his optics, Trailbreaker," The frustration in Hound's voice was something he'd never voice to Mirage. There were some things he could only tell his best friend. And Trailbreaker always seemed to understand. His friendship had helped Hound through many a dark day and he valued the black mech's friendship almost more than anything else.

"I think something truly terrible happened to him. Something that's got him so scared he just panics the moment I touch his dataport," he whispered in a subdued tone.

"Aw, Hound," Trailbreaker rolled to a stop and transformed. The Jeep followed suit and just looked at his friend with a look of fearful knowing. "It'll be alright, Hound. You just gotta have patience with 'em."

"I think someone hurt him, Trailbreaker… like… like that…" It was painful to force those words out but he felt a little better when he got that weight off his shoulders.

Trailbreaker rocked back on his treads pensively. "Maybe. I dunno, Hound," he finally admitted. The spark-breaking look on Hound's face was finally too much and he stepped forward to envelope the smaller mech in a hug. "Shhh. Just be patient with him and he'll come around, Hound. He'd be a fool not to." As always, Trailbreaker assumed his position of making the situation lighter.

Hound returned the hug with a shudder. "I think I love him, 'Breaker."

Trailbreaker's optic visor flashed in pain, though Hound missed it. His arms just tightened about the tracker. "I know, Hound, I know."

When they returned to the Ark that night, Hound tried to hail Mirage but was surprised when he couldn't reach the spy.

"I'm thinking about going to explore those canyons we found a couple weeks ago, you want to come?"

Hound shook his head regretfully. "I'd love to, 'Breaker, but Mirage and I sorta had some plans."

"Oh." Disappointment colored the black mech's voice. "Well, if you change your mind you know where I'll be," Trailbreaker offered cheerfully.

"Yeah, thanks. Maybe we'll go this weekend?" Hound felt a little guilty. Ever since he'd started seeing Mirage, he hadn't been spending as much time with Trailbreaker. The scout knew how lonely the defensive strategist was beneath his happy visage. Trailbreaker's lack of confidence made him almost painfully shy around the Autobots at times and he needed constant reassurance from Hound--otherwise he tended to settle into a depressed funk.

The scout knew that was why Trailbreaker had continued to bunk with him even after a room had become available to the tactician. He was of high enough rank to merit a single bunk, but Trailbreaker had continued to stay with Hound claiming it was just easier that way. "I'll talk to Prowl and see if I can't clear a whole weekend for us. We'll go out exploring, just the two of us."

"Hey, sounds like fun. Can't wait!" Enthused, Trailbreaker waved goodbye to his friend and went back down the road. Hound smiled as he watched his friend go before he turned and walked into the Ark. He tried Mirage's quarters but didn't get an answer.

Understandably concerned, the scout checked the commissary but didn't find Mirage there either. Finally, he approached Red Alert's security room and knocked on the door. "Hey, Red Alert? You in there?"

Like he wouldn't be. The twitchy Lamborghini rarely left his security room unless he was on patrol or in battle… or distracted by Inferno. Not that Hound was supposed to know about that. Of course, their relationship was the most well-known secret on the whole Ark so it didn't really count.

The vid-screen placed on the wall flickered to life to reveal the impatient-looking mech. "What did you need, Hound? I'm kind of busy at the moment."

"You seen Mirage anywhere? We were supposed to do something tonight but I can't seem to find him."

Red Alert's lip components thinned slightly. "That information is classified."

"What? Oh come off it, Red Alert. Just a simple yes or no would suffice." Hound felt a rare flash of annoyance flicker through him. Sometimes he could have sworn Red Alert made things difficult just because he liked to watch everyone dance around to his tune. Petty fragger that he was.

"It's classified, sorry." He didn't sound sorry. He didn't sound apologetic in the least. Fragger.

Hound felt his jaw tighten and he opened his mouth to retort.

"Hound." Prowl must have been taking lessons from Jazz on sneaking around, as he nearly scared the spark out of Hound. "Come with me, please."

"Yes, sir." Hound shot an annoyed look at Red Alert's view screen before placidly trudging after the tactician.

Instead of leading Hound to his office like the scout would have expected, the Datsun walked into officer country and lead Hound to his own personal quarters. "Umnn… sir?" Understandably wary, Hound looked around nervously.

"It's alright. I just wanted to speak to you in private and Red Alert knows I'll shoot him if he dares spy inside my personal quarters," Prowl said with a small smirk that sent a chill running through Hound.

A personable Prowl was a scary, scary Prowl.

"Right…" The skittish scout followed the tactician inside and looked around with barely leashed curiosity. It wasn't often a grunt like himself got to see how the other side lived, so to speak. He'd never been inside officers' quarters and was kind of surprised to see they weren't that much different from Hound's. They were the size of Hound's double, though there was only one berth which did give Prowl some extra room.

He'd been expecting the quarters to be cold and sterile much like Mirage's were, but he was surprised to see splashes of color and personality. A vase of brightly colored marbles and shiny rocks sat on the desk and twinkled merrily in the overhead light.

"It's Jazz's," Prowl explained with a wry look. "He's got a thing for shiny objects."

Hound went still. He had no idea Prowl and Jazz shared these quarters. Wait… only one recharge berth. The green Jeep's optics widened and he looked over at Prowl with surprised disbelief on his face.

The Datsun merely shrugged and smiled a chagrined little smile. "I realize I'm probably not the best suited mech to be talking to you about this, but let's just say I have some experience with being in love with a Special Ops member."

The whole evening had taken a surreal twist.

"They're a unique breed, Special Ops agents that is," Prowl continued. He picked up a human-sized snow-globe delicately. "You can't be in that unit and not have some very strange personality quirks. Some like Jazz and Bumblebee are better at hiding it, at pretending to be normal. I think most of the Autobots couldn't even picture little Bumblebee taking down a full-sized mech. They're dangerous, I suppose you could say. And secretive. By Primus can they keep their secrets." Prowl shook his head and the bemused exasperation was visible on the normally neutral-looking tactician. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Err… not really, sir. What does this have to do with me?" Hound tried to pretend he didn't know where this was headed. Mirage had expressed a desire to keep their relationship a secret and Hound intended to keep that secret.

"Red Alert isn't the only one who knows everything that goes on around this base, you know." Prowl reminded him with a hint of his normal icy, hard-nosed attitude coloring his voice. "The command element knows. We don't disapprove per se, in case you were curious. But Optimus and I always like to keep a close eye on the Special Ops mechs. If only because their lifestyle leaves them more open to breakdowns--even a few psychotic episodes with some of our old recruits."

"O-Oh." What could you say to that? The very concept was kind of creepy. If Optimus and the command element kept such close tabs on their troops, how did the likes of Sideswipe and even Jazz pull off all the pranks and practical jokes without getting caught?

Oh.

"Red Alert's monitoring systems must be more sophisticated then he lets on."

"Yes, well, his continual griping is only partly an act. To Red Alert's optics, even our current system isn't adequate," the tactician admitted wryly. "But that is neither here nor there. I just wanted to give you a little insight into how Special Ops agents work. They're cagey and extremely careful about who they put their trust in. But when you gain that trust, you can count on them to be there for you. I think it might be something in their programming, or maybe the specialized training that they're put through."

Prowl paced around restlessly and Hound realized he was nervous! How strange to think that the seemingly unflappable tactician could get nervous. Of course, from what Hound understood of Prowl, the Datsun was not comfortable dealing with emotions and illogical things like feelings. "I see, thanks."

"Do you?" Prowl slanted a look at him. "If you're looking for a lover who's going to be open and accepting then you're looking at the wrong mech. It took Jazz almost an entire vorn to even fully commit to a relationship with me, and he's downright normal compared to some of Mirage's neuroses."

The scout felt irritation begin to swell within him. "I know that, and I'm not looking for some quick lay or a casual berth-mate." The defensive tone in Hound's voice had Prowl staring at him long and hard. His door-wings flicked briefly in a shrug.

"I just wanted to be sure you knew what you're getting into. I don't have all the details of his life before he joined the Autobots but logically, he shows all the signs of lasting trauma. He just shows them in a different way from, say, Bluestreak."

Prowl set the snow-globe down where he'd found it and turned his attention back to Hound. "He refuses to even think about talking to Smokescreen. Not that I can blame him." That last part was muttered almost too low for Hound to hear him. Prowl's suspicion of the divisionary tactician was well known. They did not see optic-to-optic on anything. In this, Hound found himself agreeing with Prowl. For all his genial attitude and sunny smiles, there was something dark that lurked beneath Smokescreen's surface. But Optimus trusted him and that was enough for Hound.

"I… umn… thanks for the heads up, I appreciate it." Strange and unsolicited though it was.

"You're welcome. Jazz and Mirage should be back later tonight. I'll have Jazz pass along to Mirage that you were looking for them. They're in comm blackout right now."

"I… see." Hound wondered if he'd ever be able to regain the ability to speak in full sentences. Everything Prowl had revealed was swirled around inside his head like a whirlwind and it made it hard to concentrate on one thing at a time. "Hey, Prowl?"

"Hmmn?" The second-in-command had picked up a data-pad and was looking it over.

"How did you… er… get Jazz to come around?"

"Oh, I had to tie him up and have my way with him until he saw reason." he murmured in an off-handed way, optics never leaving the data-pad.

He missed Hound's jaw dropping to the floor.

"I… I… s-see." Flustered, the Jeep took a step back.

"If you think it'll be helpful, you can borrow my cuffs," Prowl reached into a subspace compartment and pulled out a set of energon-cuffs.

Hound made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak. "N-No! That's okay, I don't think that's necessary!" Thoroughly horrified now, Hound beat a hasty retreat. He missed the sly, calculating smirk that crossed Prowl's lips as the door slid shut.

Non-coms… heh… Jazz was rubbing off on him.